Tracy Smith sat on her front stairs waiting for Dillon Polk to pick her up. She had been waiting for several minutes, not because he was late but because she was early. She didn’t want him in her house tonight. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Dillon, but she didn’t let anyone in, her house or her life. Tracy kept everything private. She had few friends and liked it that way. She’d been hurt, badly, by someone she trusted and was not going to be in that position again.
Why she had agreed to go to the club with Dillon tonight was beyond her, but she had agreed and, other than being sick, could not get out of it. Part of her knew why she’d agreed, because she needed it. BDSM was as much a part of her as her body parts were. She needed the release it gave her, needed the connection to another person she got from it, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get that release anywhere else. She had tried for years to find something else that would give her that feeling, but nothing did. Her body craved it.
Tracy and Dillon had partnered off and on for two years. He worked with the Secret Service, and she was with the FBI. They had been assigned to the same case several times and worked well together. They also played well together at the Mix, a BDSM club partly owned by Dillon’s boss and friend Derek Moore. He introduced Tracy to Dillon one night at the Mix.
Derek was a Dom and knew Tracy’s history. When she talked to him about her needs, he promised to introduce her to someone who could help her and not hurt her. He provided a safe place for her to play and watched over her carefully, like an older brother.
The only problem Tracy had with Dillon was that he wanted more than she was willing to give. He wanted to date her, and she just wanted to be friends, play occasionally, and have sex. The sex with Dillon was good, very good. Yep, the friends-with-benefits thing was working very well for her—or had been. Lately, Tracy had started wanting more herself. Maybe it was her internal clock or something, but playing and sex weren’t enough. At the end of the night, she still needed something. Her bed was lonely and house too quiet. She needed something more than Tickles, her cat, to sleep with.
Tracy had fun playing with Dillon at the club, when he wasn’t nagging her for more, and they worked great together. He couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t go out with him anyplace but the club and why she wouldn’t let him in her house often. The truth was she hadn’t wanted him that close at first.
What Tracy never told anybody was that she had been in a D/s relationship for five years before moving to Washington, DC, and becoming an FBI agent. It hadn’t ended well. Since then, she never let anyone get close. She figured out by keeping everyone at a distance, she wouldn’t get hurt again. Several of her friends had told her she was crazy, and Dillon was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and he was nothing like the man she had been in the relationship with. But, after having her trust broken once, she was not going to let that happen again. She had been in the hospital for days and therapy for months. She played at the club only in front of witnesses. Tonight she was going to change things.
She was starting to feel different about Dillon. She wanted more than the nights at the club they had. She could trust him. He had never gone past any of her limits when playing, never pushed her beyond what she could take. He was very protective and supportive of her.
Dillon knelt between Tracy’s wide-splayed legs and looked at the feast spread before him. No matter how often he saw her like this, he responded every time. She was gorgeous. Her body was lush and full, not skinny like so many of the girls nowadays. She wasn’t heavy but had curves in all the places he liked them. Her breasts were like ripe fruit, his for the picking, and fit his large hands as if made for him. Her body was not hard and angled, but curved and soft and fit with his. She was short enough when standing that her head rested on his shoulder as if they were two puzzle pieces made to fit together. He wanted her.
Reaching for the nipple clamps he had set on the bed with the other toys, he showed them to her. “Remember these?”
She licked her lips in anticipation. She really did need this, and the bite of pain from the clamps was ideal.
“What are your safe words, Tracy?” He knew she would never have to use them with him but wanted to remind her that she had them if needed.
“Purple to slow down and orange to stop, Master,” she answered. Most people used the stoplight system of red, yellow, and green, but Tracy liked purple and orange.
“Very good.” He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking until it was ready for the clamp. Once he had it the way he wanted it, he swiftly applied the clamp, twisting it until he saw her wince. Then he did the same with the second clamp.
Tonight he had a surprise for her. He had a butterfly clamp he was going to put on her clit. They hadn’t used one before, and he wasn’t sure how she would respond. Showing it, he watched her eyes widen.
“We haven’t used this before. I got it special for tonight.”
Backing down her body, he lifted her clit to his mouth and began licking and sucking. She was wet and ready, her little clit shiny and swollen, needy.
Her body undulated, unable to resist—asking for more. They had played often enough that he knew her body well and what it needed and responded to. He could tell tonight, she needed more. Tonight was going to be very intense for them. It marked a change in their relationship, and each knew it.
Applying the clamp, he started it vibrating at the lowest speed. Then he grabbed the lube and a large butt plug, bigger than anything he had used on her in the past.
“I went shopping today. Look what I got for you,” he bragged, holding up the plug where she could see it. He had hoped for more tonight and had gone shopping because of it.
“Oh my God, that’s huge.” She wiggled in anticipation. It was larger than anything she had ever had inside her but still not as large as he was.
“I need to stretch you. I will take this ass tonight.” He had used several toys with her but never had taken her anally. He was sure she was ready.
Applying the lube, he teased her for several long minutes before he began slowly pushing the huge plug home. Watching her face for any signs of pain, he applied steady pressure until it was fully inserted. When he had the plug seated in her ass, he moved up her body to kiss her mouth.
“Are you still doing good, baby?” he asked against her lips.
“Yes, Sir, everything is good,” she answered breathily, arching her torso to rub her clamped nipples against the soft hair on his chest. She loved that Dillon wasn’t ashamed of his body. He was firm and muscular, but not so tough that he didn’t cuddle. Some nights the best part of the scene was the aftercare. He was thoughtful, kind, and considerate. He always made sure she got what she needed. Tracy wondered why she had taken so long to explore more with him. She had known she could trust him a long time and could tell he had wanted more for just as long.